Apparently not even André knows. He has said that in 2013 Karl stopped returning his calls and emails, and they were never friends again afterwards. That's why the paragraph about Karl cutting people out of his life.

I am a little bit surprised it's Andre who wrote the tribute article for Vogue, I know he and Karl's relationship broke, but i didn't know they used to be so intimate. It's even sadder to remember Karl that way.

and Anna's article is surprisingly short and formulated, considering she and karl have been close for so many years and she always choose Chanel for big occasions.
I guess they may not be true frds to each other, more like strong and solid business partners relationship.

and what is TIME really trying to say here?? that Karl better to die cause he was mean?? or he is ugly cause he criticized some ppl??
the comments below are even more disgusting, no one is perfect and especially for genius like Karl, they usually have certain personalities that's overwhelming or edgy.
I mean a true legend has died, he is not a war criminal or whatever, at least show respect instead of misleading ppl with your word game.

and Anna's article is surprisingly short and formulated, considering she and karl have been close for so many years and she always choose Chanel for big occasions.
I guess they may not be true frds to each other, more like strong and solid business partners relationship.

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We can’t judge their relationship by a post. They were obviously friends but maybe Anna has a privacy and she doesn’t want to display everything like that.

Karl was a real legend and the reactions to his death shows that. No matter if sometimes he was borderline, the reality is that all the people who even did 1 shooting with him have marvelous things to say about him.
Humans are not perfect and he wasn’t politically correct either. That’s why I have always defended him...beyond his wicked words sometimes, he was a man of class.

I guess he didn’t like Dolce & Gabbana either. No reactions from them...
I’m not even surprised.

We can’t judge their relationship by a post. They were obviously friends but maybe Anna has a privacy and she doesn’t want to display everything like that.
I guess he didn’t like Dolce & Gabbana either. No reactions from them...
I’m not even surprised.

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cause Anna wrote a pretty long article for Oscar de la Renta and Franca, so i expected sth more emotional.

as for DG, remember they ridiculously accused karl of copying their design for the 2018 resort boots? I don't expect anything respectful from them ever.

Karl Lagerfeld was a standard unto himself. He defined what it means to be a twenty-first-century designer, and he did it with humor and joy. It’s doubly painful to have lost him because he never fell out of love with his work or with the world, and his death marks the end of the era of craftspeople who could do it all. Karl was the living soul of fashion: restless, forward-looking, and voraciously attentive to our changing culture. He recognized earlier than most that ready-to-wear wasn’t just couture-lite but the vibrant center of the new, accomplished woman’s lifestyle. And at a time when his peers were seeking shelter in fashion houses, he branched out alone as perhaps the world’s most dazzling freelancer, designing multiple labels with electric energy. I’ve joked that Karl was a one-man superbrand, as distinctive as the Chanel suit he imbued with a second life. To me, however, he was something more. Through decades of adventures and misadventures, he was a true and loyal friend.

We were often in touch, but Karl prized his solitude and working hours, which would regularly run to 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. He was not a morning person. He loved parties and could be counted on to rise to any social occasion, often with a startling display of unexpected skills. I can recall one evening, many years ago, when Karl neatly rolled up the exquisite carpet from the Salon de la Paix, pulled the dauntingly debonair Oscar de la Renta onto the floor, and danced a perfect tango in the classic style. Karl and I kept a standing dinner date in Paris on the first Sunday of every Fashion Week, often joined by our great friend Amanda Harlech, but we never spoke of our work during those evenings. He was witty and winsome, and seemed to have an endless supply of risqué jokes—in other words, the world’s best dinner companion. The hours I spent with him at the table make me feel luckier than any stroke of fortune I’ve had at my editing desk.

Because Karl had a natural eye for style and beauty, because he dressed like no one else, and because he (and his extremely pampered cat) took to the glitter of social media better than any other octogenarian I know, it was often assumed that he worked in the realm of surfaces. In truth, his private passions ran deep. Karl loved nothing more than reading alone, and books used to pile madly around his workplace: At one point, a table laden with them collapsed from its own weight through the floor. It sometimes wasn’t clear, until one talked with him, that he had found inspiration in everything from the week’s news to eighteenth-century decorative arts and the philosophy of David Hume. No designer had more esoteric references, or such varied ones. Karl was a renaissance man who, by virtue of his interests and background, devoured the world. He was a linguist, a photographer, an interior decorator, a collector, a filmmaker, and a philanthropist—among many other things.

That openness and energy always showed. If fashion is the personal expression of a world in transformation, design is the practice of noticing those changes a moment ahead of everyone else, and embodying them in clothes that help people find their sense of self. That was Karl, not just in his taste but in his soul. He hated to be called an artist. He was “working class,” he insisted—a commercial craftsman doing his best to fill the stores with new and interesting wares. For all his prolificacy and professionalism, though, what made Karl Karl was something far more intimate and squarely in the artist’s realm: a hidden thread of love, and maybe loss, that drew him to reach out, in life and work, and try to connect with the singular person hiding in the fashionable crowd.

Speaking personally, I want to say the connection was real. I’ve worn Karl’s beautiful clothes during the most important, emotional moments of my life: at my wedding, at my children’s weddings, when I received a damehood from the queen, at Franca Sozzani’s memorial service. Partly it was because of how much I loved his designs, how well they expressed who I was and what I hoped to be. But partly it was because of Karl. Putting on his exquisite dresses or perfect suits made me feel close to him, and secure in crucial moments in the comfort of a friend. What helps me now is knowing I’ll still find him there when he’s gone.

If the most joyful part of my work is discovering new talents, the most heartbreaking is watching those I’ve known and loved depart the world. I was always thrilled to celebrate Karl’s incredible creativity in Vogue, yet it’s as a person, not as a designer, that I will miss him most. My colorful compatriot. My brilliant friend. Karl would want us to think only of the future, but today I’m leaving a place for sadness at what has passed.

I've just read the tributes of Andre, Valentino, Giorgio Armani and many. They all made me cry a bit and made me realize that he's gone forever. Reading articles about his wish on the funeral even made me sadder.

His body may disappear forever in this world, but his works and himself will remain in our fashion lovers' heart and mind forever.

OH....Anna's tribute is so touching and so personal, sth i expected when the news was out. Clearly she need more time to write and edit this article.

I like the last two paragraphs, cause i collected Chanel myself, of course not on the same level as Anna, but it feels the same.
When u put on Karl's design, u just simply feel more powerful, more confident and more true to yourself, which is a truly inner security, and that's why so many ppl are loyal to Chanel, it's a complex and a faith.
and I am concerned whether that kind of power will keep running after he died. one thing for sure, it will never be the same. I hope his spirit and legacy can be carried on.

Karl Lagerfeld’s death has generated floods of anecdotes from anyone who ever came anywhere near him. But then there is nothing like death to bring out claims of close encounters with a famous person. My own relationship with the long-time creative director of Fendi and Chanel was entirely professional.
He had many friends and colleagues who were with him for decades, amounting to family.
That didn’t include myself but, even so, at each Paris fashion week I attended as Vogue editor I would be greeted by a satellite dish-sized basket of ravishing flowers when I entered my hotel room. There was always a handwritten note on personalised notepaper which normally, but not always, mentioned something appreciative about the magazine, showing that he had taken the time to look at it properly, and not just to see how much of his own work appeared. On a few occasions we locked horns over something I had published that he didn’t like, and once he fell into a fury and wrote that nobody would ever buy my magazine again. I remember being urged, by a desperate aide, to write to apologise – ‘but handwriting only, Alex. Don’t type it’. I duly handwrote a letter pointing out that I was sad that he didn’t approve of how I was doing my job but luckily vast numbers of other people – Vogue’s readers – did. I suppose Jeremy Corbyn and Theresa May must feel the same about the MPs quitting Labour and the Tories over their leadership but I was right and they are wrong.

Glenda Bailey's tribute, which is also her editor's letter in the April issue:

The world is a less beautiful place today. Karl Lagerfeld was a visionary right until the end. His mastery—of fabric, design, silhouette, and the very process of creative reinvention—was a breathtaking thing to behold. His creations were so exquisite, I have been known to shed a tear.

I first met Karl in 1988, when I became editor in chief of Marie Claire in the U.K. Over the years, he has given me some of my greatest fashion memories. Each season I would visit him in Paris at his atelier for a preview of the Chanel collection before the show. When I arrived at my hotel room, there would be a small rain forest waiting for me with a handwritten note from Karl saying how much he was looking forward to our meetings. The arrangements were different each time, but one thing was consistent: their size. They were so big, it would often take six people to get them through the door.

Karl was extremely kind and generous. I will always treasure the many drawings he did of me and the thoughtful notes he sent, explaining in detail what he particularly liked about Bazaar. He would do the same with other designers. He would write to them and send flowers before their shows.

I always looked forward to seeing Karl in Paris. I remember one time, we broke into a spontaneous cha-cha during one of the fittings, and the whole atelier stopped and started to applaud. Another one of my favorite memories was when Karl threw a ball for Stephen Gan and me at his private home in Paris. We danced until the early hours of the morning!

In those early days, I would have dinner in Paris with Karl, just the two of us. I would turn up in a dress—it didn’t matter whose dress it was—and he would tell me the origin of the design. He would say, “I know where that inspiration came from.” And then he would explain that it was based on an original design from Madame Grès or Vionnet or Schiaparelli. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of fashion and a deeper well of aesthetic references than anyone I’ve ever met.

Over the years, Karl participated in dozens of stories for Harper’s Bazaar. I once got Karl to do an imaginary conversation with Chanel. He loved it so much, he asked French actress Jeanne Moreau to do the voice over as Coco Chanel. And the tape was sold at Le Bon Marché! We featured Karl with Choupette’s ears; he also dressed up as a rapper and then later as a vampire. When we convinced Takashi Murakami, who had never done portraiture before, to create a portfolio of designers, Karl gamely posed, ultimately purchasing the image from the artist and hanging it in the Chanel offices. Later, when Murakami did his exhibit “The Octopus Eats Its Own Leg,” Karl not only posed alongside the creature, but took the picture himself. At the time, he said he identified with the octopus. If I ever asked designers to do some outlandish idea, they would all agree to do it if Karl participated in the piece. From star signs to aesthetic opposites, no conceit was too out there if Karl was on board.

Karl also had a wicked sense of humor. In 2008, when I received my Order of the British Empire from Queen Elizabeth, Karl told me he wanted to design a couture Chanel suit for me and asked what color the medal was. I told him it was pink. I arrived in Britain and opened up the garment bag, expecting to see pink and instead there was a navy blue suit. So I wrote him a note and said, “Oh, well, navy blue is the pink of England.” And we cried laughing!

As fastidious as Karl was about many things, punctuality was not one of them. He was notorious for being late. Whether I was visiting him at his home or meeting him for drinks at Café Flore, I would always go with a big book and expect to wait two hours for his arrival.

He also hated people remembering his birthday. The only gift I ever gave him which I think he liked was a pair of custom-made Chrome Hearts “KL” cuff links. Everyone from his atelier called me to say what a success they had been.

I first knew Karl was ill when I visited him at his atelier and he didn’t walk me out to the elevator. That’s when I realized something was wrong. Because he always escorted me out. The last time I saw him, we were talking about our next collaboration! He was excited. “That is the best idea I’ve ever heard!” he said without hesitation. And I thought to myself, “That’s high praise indeed, coming from the master.”

There will never be another Karl. He will live on in our hearts—and the pages of Bazaar—forever.

^ This was not even funny. Two head shoots in a tribute to a fashion designer of Karl's calibre? WTF? The rest are not any less random. The easiest way to make it decent at least was to choose images from couture supplements, there were more than enough to choose from photographed by Meisel over the years

another sh*t tribute from the archives is from Vogue Russia on instagram
swimsuit and a reprint instagram.com/voguerussia

I think the publications were very lazy in setting up this tribute. I mean, what about his work for Chloe, Krizia, Fendi, Mario Valentino or even Max Mara. Chanel is cool but it’s extremely lazy to go back to the closest eds in time.

It’s like doing a Versace tribute without mentioning his work for Callaghan, Genny or Complice.
It would have been better to maybe not rush and prepare a real tribute.

It’s a pity because in Italy, they must have the most interesting archive of Karl.